


The Phonecall

by eleanna99



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleanna99/pseuds/eleanna99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time for the Avengers to assemble once again, so a phonecall has to be made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Phonecall

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything in the Marvel universe. The story is based on the post below, but is not exclusively focused on the ship.  
> http://whovianlocked.tumblr.com/post/96471133717/anninymouse-my-dream-for-the-avengers-age-of

Tony woke up at the first ring.  
Like every time his sleep was interrupted, he sat up at the bed of the small hotel in Hawaii, panting, with his hand clutching his chest, only to realize that there was nothing there. It was over. Pepper, who had gotten used to it after all this time woke up immediately after him and turned on the bedside lamp, while her fingers intertwined with his under the covers. She let the phone ring a few more times, focused on Tony’s breathing and only when it was steady enough, his eyes looking calm with the hints of pain she could only notice but chose to ignore, did she lean over to pick up the speaker.  
“It’s for you,” she said after a few seconds, her voice still notably sleepy even though her heart was beating faster than usual.  
“Just tell Bruce that he should get some sleep and whatever new science-y thing he has found out can wait until morning,” he replied, leaning back into his pillow, his hands covering his face.  
“Tony. It’s SHIELD.”  
That was enough for him. “This is Tony Stark,” he said in the speaker as soon as he grabbed it from her hand. The rest of the conversation was the person at the other end of the line speaking and Tony just saying ‘yes’ and ‘okay’ every so often. He hang up relatively soon, but the first glimpses of sun could already be seen through the windows, the night slowly fading away along with Pepper’s hopes of staying in bed all day.  
“Is everything okay? What happened?” she asked, her eyes fixed on him.  
“Will you hate me too much if I tell you that we need to fly back to Manhattan?” was all he said.  
“When?” she sighed, rolling her eyes. It was their third day of their much needed vacation and no matter how understanding she tried to be with him, she wasn’t too willing to say goodbye to the beach and go back to the hustle and bustle of New York.  
Before she could voice any other complain, Tony had pinned her down on the bed, his mouth on hers. “Not until lunchtime,” he whispered and pulled the sheets over their heads as he felt a smile spread on Pepper’s lips.  
Surprisingly enough, Bruce was sleeping too.  
Well, not in a bed to be honest. His head was lying on his wooden desk, on top of the papers that were tossed all over it. His reading glasses were positioned in a strange angle on his nose and the lamp on the desk was still lit, the bulb burning hot. It had been a long day of research and isolation, like most of his days, but they usually didn’t end up like this. In most cases he made it through the night and collapsed in his bed when the sun was up in the sky and he was too tired to continue; that night the exhaustion had caught up with him a little earlier.  
It took his a while to get out of his slumber and realize where the sound was coming from, but soon enough he had wiped his mouth of any involuntary drooling, slid his glasses back up his nose and held his phone in his hand. At first he expected it to be from Tony, but as the word Unregistered glowed on the screen he realized it was a whole different deal.  
“Dr Banner,” he answered it, trying not to sound as exhausted as he felt. He listened carefully and didn’t say a word, staring at his barely legible writing on the notes in front of him.  
“Okay, no, no questions,” he said, but quickly reconsidered. “Actually, I’ve just got one: what time is it?” He always said he should buy an alarm clock, but according to many people alarms were the most maddening thing in the universe and he already tried to stay away from many things that could drive him angry. He sure as hell wasn’t going to put them in his own house. “I’ll be there by nine, thank you.”  
Steve’s phone was on vibrate but he was a trained shoulder; he picked up faster than everyone else and his voice was as alarmed as if he was ready for battle.  
He was on his feet as soon as he hang up. He had purposefully left the window open like he did every night, finding the nights too hot to sleep through without soaking the sheets with sweat. Back in his day the sun was still shining, but it felt like a different sun. It was pleasant, not burning and you could walk under it for hours without worrying about sunstrokes and burns and cancer.  
He tried to shake the memories off; those days were gone, he was living in a new age now so he should get used to it. He liked to think he was doing a good job, until he opened his closet to find something to wear.  
There, behind all the pants and shirts and jackets was a map, pinned with photos and files and everything that could turn out to be useful in his search. For many, the Winter Soldier was just a myth, but for Steve he was a both painful and amazing reality. He would find Bucky even if it took him seventy more years to do so; he was with him until the end of line.  
Nobody called Thor, it was hard even for SHIELD to communicate with other planets. But they knew he would come. He always did. He watched out for Earth like he used to and he came every time he thought he was needed; it was nice to think that in spite of the flaws and mistakes of the human race, a god still left Asgard to come to their aid.  
When they called Clint, it almost went to voicemail. He picked up just in time and he didn’t even bother to hide his annoyance.   
“Okay, I’ll be there,” he muttered. He didn’t specify the time on purpose, as his plan was to sleep for however long his body wanted to after the long night he had been through and then deal with anything else that came up.  
“Also, Barton,” the voice in the phone continued even though he was more than ready to hang up and go back to bed, “we need your help.” After a long silent sigh he was relatively ready to listen. “We still don’t have Agent Romanoff’s new location, so if you have a way of contacting her, pass the message to her as well.”  
“I’ll see if I can track her down,” was all he said and as soon as nobody replied, the phone was back in its original place and Clint was where he wanted to be.  
He sank in the mattress and, welcoming the warmth, rolled over to have his face swallowed by a waterfall of red hair. She shifted under his arm that had embraced her waist, but made no gesture to show that she had woken up. For a moment he contemplated saying nothing and going back to sleep, wait until morning to face the world, but the sense of duty inside him was too strong.  
“Hey Nat,” he whispered, planting a kiss on her shoulder. “Wake up, they need us.”


End file.
